Another Road, Another Journey
by DaBananaLord
Summary: He thought he was finished, his journey complete. He thought there were no more roads he had left to travel. He was wrong. Suddenly, he was thrown into a new world, one brimming with life. Here, another journey begins. Here, another road lies open for The Courier to follow. First story, reviews welcome.
1. Utopia

Chapter 1 - Utopia

**This is the first fan fiction I've ever written, so I hope you'll be gentle.**

**The characters and the setting used in this story belong to their rightful owners. I do not claim ownership, for this is a fiction based on a fiction written for entertainment purposes without profit.**

**Thoughts will be in **_italics._

**Rated M for violence, language, and possibly adult themes later on.**

**Another Road, Another Journey**

He awoke with a gasp.

A lone man, features hidden beneath an articulate mass of leather and armor, jolted upright in the middle of a clearing. He took a moment to analyze his surroundings.

_What the hell? Trees? Grass?_

The last he knew, he was in the basement of the Lucky 38, fiddling with a device Mr. House had stowed away. A light had blinded him before he found himself in the clearing.

_The land's flat, so I'm not near Jacobstown. No mantises or Bighorners around, either._

The man activated a screen attached to his wrist, the words "Pip-Boy Model 3000" clear among the dials and buttons around it. Upon the screen, an arrow surrounded by darkness was displayed.

The man felt a hint of despair as his assumption was confirmed. He had never been here before.

He swore under his breath, this being the forth time he was stranded in a foreign land without any knowledge on how to get back to the Mojave.

_First the Sierra Madre, then Zion, and then Big Mountain. At least the Divide was kind enough to give me an exit._

Frustrated, he pulled himself to his feet and took inventory. He wore a chest plate, painted green, under a pair of bandoliers that held various bullets and pouches. Around his waist were a few belts, one of which held a canteen with the number "11" printed clearly on the front. Tan cargo pants covered his legs; his feet bore plated combat boots. Green plates protected his knees. On top of it all was a duster coat, laden with a pair of pouches on the arms, bracers on the forearms, pauldrons on the shoulders, and leather gloves on the hands. A combat helmet covered his head; an ominous gas mask covered his face. The number "100" was printed on the collar protecting his neck.

_Armor, check. Beats wandering around naked._

The man looked to his side to find a familiar knapsack and a large footlocker. His curiosity took precedence over his inhibitions, and he began searching through them.

_So my pack made it here, too. That's good, I think._

He paused upon opening the footlocker, revealing an impressive collection of unique weapons and apparel.

Weapons and apparel the man had seen before.

_How in the hell did my personal footlocker end up... wherever the hell I am?_

The man pondered his situation while he scanned the surrounding environment for any threats he had missed previously.

_This isn't like the last time I was kidnapped. Whoever did this had access to the presidential suite._

A foul taste entered the man's mouth as he considered being betrayed.

_No. Never. We've been through too much together. None of them would stoop that low._

He shook his head, resolving to wait until more answers were present before he began making more assumptions. His eyes settled on a beaten dirt path among the trees. The man sighed.

_No matter how many roads I travel, there's always one more in the distance._

He opened the footlocker and pulled out a pump-action hunting shotgun, characterized by synthetic camouflage painted on its pump and stock. He then picked up the footlocker by the handle on its side, barely struggling with its considerable weight. The man, The Courier, prepared himself for the long haul ahead.

**Oh dear, I hope that wasn't too terrible. Please give advice in the reviews. Oh, and please review.**

**In case you couldn't tell from the description, The Courier is wearing the Elite Riot Gear and Elite Riot Helmet from Lonesome Road, and the shotgun he pulls out in the end is the Dinner Bell from the main game.**

**Oh, and if you want information on this Courier, (you know, like his name) it will be given over time. As for pairings, I don't have any planned... yet.**


	2. The Forest

Chapter 2 - The Forest

**I still don't own the rights to Fallout or League of Legends, and I am still not writing for the purpose of profit. I simply want to entertain others.**

**Well, second chapter is a go. I would like to thank those that have reviewed the first chapter, and would appreciate further input. Thank you!**

**Yes, chapters will be longer from here on out. The first was just a short little introduction, so expect there to be more meat on my chapters now.**

**Thoughts are still in **_italics_**.**

The Courier was experiencing something new on his journey to nowhere.

He was bored.

In the Mojave Wasteland, travelers were always targeted by raiders, wildlife, mutants, and even (to certain people of interest) well-armed groups of Legion or NCR assassins. Even walled settlements offered little safety, thugs threatening to strong-arm settlers within and gangs like the Fiends threatening to blast the walls from without. Traveling from one place to another required being well armed and constantly alert. Here, in this forest, The Courier hadn't been attacked in at least six hours. It was unheard of.

_Not even a bloatfly. For once, I miss mortal peril._

The forest, if anything, was quiet. Not the quiet that The Courier knew, one filled with tension and the threat of chaos breaking out at any moment, but a serene quiet. One that allows for deep thought or peace of mind to troubled souls. The trees only rustled slightly in the gentle wind, flinging a few leaves onto the dirt path. Bushes and flowers covered the grass on either side of the path. They were pleasing to the eye, bursting with a brilliant mixture of color.

_No man-eaters. If I wasn't convinced I was going to hell, I'd say I'm in paradise._

The few animals he saw were all docile and ran away at the slightest sound. Not only that, but they resembled the Pre-War creatures he often read about in the few books he came across in the Mojave.

He paused and placed his free hand on the ornate handle of the Ranger Sequoia at his hip as a branch snapped nearby, only to relax upon seeing a furball with legs bound across the path.

_What were those called? Rabbits?_

The Courier's boredom also did nothing to relieve his confusion, for the lack of danger gave him time to think about his curious surroundings.

_Am I even on Earth anymore? This place clearly isn't a wasteland, and I haven't seen hide nor hair of another man for miles. All the animals I've seen are clearly Pre-War, which means that there was no radioactivity anywhere near here. If Arcade and the records I've seen are correct, no country saved itself from the missiles. So where could I possibly be?_

The Courier suddenly realized that the sun was nearly touching the horizon.

_Maybe if I sleep on it, something will come to me._

The Courier decided to set up a camp in a clearing by the road, where the land was flat enough to sleep on and nothing too large and dangerous could jump him from some bush. He then headed into the forest to collect firewood.

It wasn't long until he found a rabbit hanging by its neck from a sapling. Curious, The Courier kneeled down to take a closer look.

_Poor fella looks like he was hung by his neck. But who set up the trap?_

Traps required intelligence. Intelligence meant a sentient species.

_Maybe there's civilization around here after all._

Before the Courier could think further, his stomach growled. He suddenly realized that he hadn't eaten all day. His gaze focused on the rabbit before him.

_Well, it's not like anyone's around to catch-_

The bush nearby rustled slightly and two men walked into The Courier's sight.

They froze upon seeing him.

On one side, The Courier stood with his Ranger Sequoia already out, duster coat waving behind him and a menacing glow coming from the eyes of his mask. On the other, two hunters stood, bows in hand and both anger and confusion etched into their faces.

_Bows and fur coats. They look human, but their equipment's ancient. Hell, no one uses bows anymore. What kind of place is this?_

"HEY! That's our kill!" one of the men said. He was tall and fair-skinned, clearly the younger of the two.

"Quiet, boy. I don't like the looks of this... stranger," the other man muttered. This man was older and wrinkled; grey hair poked out from under his fur hat.

The Courier shifted slightly, catching the attention of the two.

"I'm afraid you've got me misunderstood. I don't mean you gentlemen any harm. I was just looking for some firewood, and stumbled on your trap here. Nothing has to happen here. I can just walk away and leave you two be."

The young man relaxed slightly upon hearing The Courier's words, but he stiffened again when the old man began to speak.

"We can't let him go, boy. We don't have a right to hunt here, remember? No one can know we were-"

That was all of the warning The Courier needed.

BANG.

The old man was interrupted as his bow split in half, wood splintering and sprinkling the snow below as a 45-70 Gov't round impaled a tree, leaving the bewildered pair of hunters staring at the pile of wood and string that was once a weapon. The old man looked up, shocked, to see The Courier pointing his revolver at him, wisps of smoke spilling from the end of the barrel.

"Now, I see you're beginning to understand your position in this little parley. If you two plan on keeping your heads free of holes, I recommend that you get out of my sight."

Acknowledging this sound plan, the two scurried back into the forest.

The Courier holstered his revolver and sighed.

_The first two humans I meet in this place, and I nearly end up killing both of them._

His moment of melancholy passed when he turned back to the snared rabbit. He cut it from the trap, placed it into his pack, and continued looking for firewood.

_I wonder if it tastes like gecko steak._

Smoke trailed into the sky as The Courier cleaned up after his meal and prepared for his rest under the stars.

_Beats a nap in any inn with a view like this. Good to see that the stars are the same here. _

However, something was... different. The Courier frowned from behind his mask as he stared at the night sky.

_Was the moon always so... bright?_

It shined like a great comet among the stars, bathing the space around it with a bright pale light. As opposed to the moon of Earth, this moon shamed the stars by glamorously outshining them in the vast sky. It was like a symbol, an iconic sphere that radiated light… light and power.

_More questions without answers for the pile, I guess._

The Courier simply watched the sky, admiring the constellations as he nodded off into a deep slumber.

Akali frowned from behind her mask. She wasn't sure what to make of the man sleeping in the clearing.

_He is clearly no ordinary traveler, considering his strange weapons and armor. He is also not violating the balance, but that doesn't mean he is not dangerous._

She was originally hunting down the poachers that were illegally hunting in the forest, but the timely intervention of the traveler prevented her from killing them. This left her with a puzzle.

The followings of the Kinkou warranted swift death to violators of balance, but this was the only teaching that permitted violence in dealing with a problem. The two men were still alive, but the fact that they had been disarmed and sent running back to the nearest town meant that they were no longer a disruption to the balance. Therefore, their lives were no longer forfeit.

That left the strange traveler.

He was clearly not some vagrant seeking destruction, for he had chosen not to kill the two poachers even though it was easily within his ability. He was also not a native Ionian, since Ionians did not use guns (especially of the kind the man possessed) and the man's accent contained a foreign gruffness to it.

That meant that Akali's only remaining option was to report back at the Kinkou fortress. Acknowledging this, she leaped off of one branch to the next, delving further into the forest.

**And that's the second chapter. Let me know in the reviews if it's still a little too short.**


	3. The Forest Part 2

Chapter 3 - The Forest Part 2

**I am writing for fun, and I don't own these characters.**

* * *

Deep in the Ionian forest, a green-clad ninja neared a palace that towered above the trees surrounding it. The building was of traditional Ionian architecture, with a curved tile roof and walls constructed entirely out of wooden planks. As the ninja neared the palace, shouts penetrated the silence while various ninjas-in-training sparred and performed various exercises.

As the green kunoichi landed and walked towards the entrance into the palace, the trainees stopped and bowed to her respectfully, muttering "Fist of Shadow" as she passed. She nodded to them in response before she entered the palace.

She was greeted by a man who was draped in dark blue cloth that was typical of a Kinkou warrior. A pair of eerie glowing yellow eyes turned to bore into Akali's dark brown ones.

"Shen." she said, using his first name after insuring that they were alone.

"Akali" he responded, both ninjas bowing in respect to each other.

"You've arrived earlier than expected," Shen began in his monotonous voice, "do you have something to report?"

"Yes. During my patrol, I encountered two poachers who were illegally placing traps in the forest."

"Did you remove them?"

"I was going to, but before I could, a stranger with strange weapons and armor found them first."

This prompted only the slightest signs of surprise from the other ninja.

"The two confronted him and were about to kill him, but he used a gun of some kind to destroy one of their weapons."

Shen raised an eyebrow behind his mask.

"Did he kill them?"

"No. He allowed them to escape with their lives."

Akali shifted slightly, and began speaking with a softer tone of voice

"Shen... whoever this man is, he seems to be very dangerous. I... I'm not sure what to do."

Shen blinked. It was rare for the Fist of Shadow to show any vulnerability to anyone, even her closest allies.

"Perhaps we should have this... stranger followed." Shen muttered, wondering just who this stranger in the woods could possibly be. He continued, "Kennen and I will accompany you when he gets back from his mission."

"Are you sure all three of us should go?"

"The other Kinkou here are either too inexperienced or needed for other duties. We also want to be prepared for anything that this man could be capable of. We have few enough recruits as is, any threats to us must be addressed immediately."

Akali nodded and left to prepare.

* * *

The Courier, after a couple more days of travel, realized that maybe the lack of hostility wasn't necessarily a bad thing. For once, he was relaxed during his journey, not fidgety and constantly watching his surroundings for possible attacks. It also helped that there were plenty of things for him to admire in the environment, with birds and colorful plants dotting the woods along the path instead of the bland wasteland he was accustomed to. He was enjoying himself, and even began to whistle in order to replace the lack of a radio as he walked along.

This was why the bandit ambush surprised him. Out of the bushes, a group of six men in fur armor jumped onto the path and pointed an array of weapons at the Courier. Two of them stayed back among the trees with bows ready while the other four circled around him with blades. They eyed him like a pack of wolves preparing to take apart their prey. The Courier sighed to himself.

_Shit. Shouldn't have lost my attention._

A man stepped in front of the Courier, placing the edge of a rusty iron short sword on the Courier's shoulder.

"Well, what have we got here? Looks like someone got lost in our woods."

The other men snickered to themselves. Lone travelers made easy marks.

"Listen here, stranger. My friends and I, we don't like it when other people wander around in our territory. Thing is, it's been a long day and we're a little tired from killing the last few people that came through. You see that?"

The man gestured towards a skeleton that was leaning against a tree farther ahead on the path. It was posed to appear as though the victim was executed while helpless.

"We use that to scare away cowards that would run and whine to the Elders about mean bandits in the woods. That way, we only get people like _you_. People that think they're tough enough to take on whatever comes at them in the forest. Do you want to know why?"

The man grinned in a manner that would terrify lesser men. The Courier was unimpressed.

"Because they're more fun to kill. We like watching them lose hope while they bleed like stuck pigs in the dirt. We like drawing out their pain to show them that they aren't special. We like to show them that they won't get to be the big hero that everyone wants to be these days. They don't get to be loved by the people for destroying evil and saving everyone. No, they only get to die. They get to die a long, painful death at the hands of some people that they thought were just trash. Well, you know what? There aren't any heroes. There are only idiots who think that 'honorable' intentions make them invincible."

The man leaned in uncomfortably close. The Courier glared directly into the leader's eyes through his mask.

"Well, mystery man? You think you're some big damn hero? Huh? You think you can take us all on by yourself? Come on. Tell me. I want to hear you make your speech before I make you watch me pull out your guts."

The Courier, somewhat entertained that these bandits had convinced themselves that they had a purpose beyond surviving, answered the man with a chuckle. It was distorted through the filter in the gas mask, creating a strange, otherworldly sound that made the bandits around him swap nervous glances.

With a quick, smooth motion, the Courier grabbed the leader's wrist and broke it, prompting the man to scream in pain. The Courier followed that up with a stomp to his knee, crippling him. He pulled the Dinner Bell from his back while the leader fell. Taking advantage of the moment of shock the bandits were experiencing, the Courier fired a shot that blew away one of the two archers. The rest of the men snapped back to their senses and charged at the Courier while the archer moved to find a better position.

The Courier, after pumping his shotgun with lighting fast speed, proceeded to blast one of the men that attempted to engage him in melee. His fur armor did little to resist the 12 gauge magnum round, leaving the man in a pile of blood and torn flesh on the dirt.

_One disabled, two dead. Three still kicking._

The Courier ducked under the swing of one charger and swung his shotgun around to send a shot through the head of the other, leaving a bloody stump where the neck used to be. The remaining charger turned towards the Courier and attempted to strike again, only to have his arm caught mid-swing. The Courier kneed him in the stomach, causing him to fall to his knees while grimacing in pain. The Courier finished him with a shot through the head.

_Dink!_

An arrow bounced off of the Courier's pauldron and fell to the ground. He turned to find a lone man trying to string another arrow, but his hands were shaking severely. The Courier aimed and fired his shotgun once, prompting the archer to look down at what remained of his torso before falling to a bloody heap on the ground.

A quick scan of the area revealed that the injured man had run away.

_Throwing out some big speech about how tough he is, then running when the action starts? Pathetic._

The Courier took a moment to reload his shotgun before checking the bodies for anything of use.

* * *

_Gold coins. They use gold coins as currency here. That... I didn't expect that._

Having lifted about 30 coins and a couple of necklaces from the bandits, the Courier now found himself traveling once again with a bit of extra caution. He didn't want to caught like that again. Although he could easily fend off any more attacks, living in the Wasteland had taught him that staying focused prevented mistakes.

Mistakes in the Wasteland were almost always fatal.

However, his mind still managed to wander a bit, returning to the questions he had previously asked himself and what information he had available.

_So. Wherever this place is, it uses gold coins as currency._

_The people seem to wear mostly light armor, even though it doesn't do much to stop bullets._

_The woods are populated with Pre-War animals somehow._

_I haven't found any radiation or mutated animals yet._

_The moon does not look normal._

It wasn't much to go on, but that was better than nothing. From what was there, the Courier was convinced that he was definitely not on the planet he was born on.

_Better find a map, just to be sure._

The Courier sighed to himself. It was obvious that he wouldn't get any answers without at least finding a town of some sort. Unfortunately, the forest seemed endless, with trees stretching on for miles. He could be traveling for months without seeing any hint of civilization, gradually growing more concerned about the status of his friends and home.

Banishing these thoughts, the Courier simply grit his teeth with frustration and journeyed forth.

* * *

**Threw in some action and a little intrigue for fun. Hope you enjoyed reading.**


	4. The Encounter

Chapter 4 - The Encounter

**I do not claim ownership of these characters. This story is being written for the entertainment of others. DON'T SUE ME, MAN.**

**I would like to thank everyone for reading this. I appreciate your support.**

* * *

The Courier found that he enjoyed hunting the animals of this world, because it provided a different kind of challenge. Instead of having to desperately fight off an animal in a bid for survival, he had to sneak up on his prey and try to take it out without making the slightest mistake, for if the animal detected him, it would would run away at a baffling speed. This made killing the deer he had stalked a kind of game, one that made it satisfying to finally put a round through its heart.

_Doesn't taste bad at all either. Guess heavy doses of radiation leading to horrifying mutations makes meat go a little sour. Who knew?_

He checked over his equipment again. His Dinner Bell was still in good condition after the fight, and rested on his back. His Ranger Sequoia, fully loaded and cleaned of grime, was holstered by his side. He pulled out his knife, an old blood-stained Bowie knife that had been named Blood-Nap after the red tint the knife had taken after being bathed in blood many times. The Courier strapped it to the back of his belt after ensuring that it was still razor-sharp. His armor and duster were unscathed from the battle.

_All equipment is in excellent condition. Good. I've spent a few too many nights unprepared. No monsters or raiders around to ambush me, either. Maybe I can finally get a chance to re-_

Further thought ceased as the Courier felt a slight tingle on the surface of his skin. Something was wrong. Without a word, he stood up and drew his shotgun.

A flick of a switch on the side of his helmet covered his vision in a red glow. Ignoring the glare from the fire, he scanned the trees in order to check for possible enemies. His eyes settled upon three shadows that were settled on separate branches.

"You know, I can see you." He said, raising his voice so they heard.

* * *

Despite the intense mental training she had gone through to prevent paralyzing emotions, Akali froze in shock.

_No. He couldn't have found us. What man can see perfectly well through the darkness of night? He couldn't have discovered us so soon._

Obviously, she had been discovered before, but it was when she was still young and foolish. She would make mistakes, but none of them had jeopardized her mission before. A touch of nervousness settled in. This mission would not be as easy as she had originally assumed.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Shen draw one of his swords while Kennen twitched impatiently. The man below, who had been watching carefully, raised his weapon.

"If you plan on killing me, you better pray you don't miss."

The phrase seemed to hang in the air, acting as both a challenge and a threat. Dead silence reigned in the clearing.

After some time, Shen sheathed his sword and stood.

"What are you doing?" Akali asked him.

"We are getting nowhere. We came for information, correct? Then I will negotiate."

Before Akali could argue, Shen and Kennen (who joined Shen just because he wanted something to do) had already jumped down to the ground below. Akali reluctantly joined them, kamas unsheathed and at the ready.

_He is the Eye of Shadow. I must be confident in his judgements._

"Put your weapon down." Shen ordered the man.

"I would love to, friend, but I'm afraid that'd put me at a bit of a disadvantage. I mean, I'm already outnumbered. Disarming myself would just be plain stupid, now wouldn't it?"

"You are a stranger to our lands. How can we trust you if you have your weapon pointed at us?"

"You're all strangers to me. Where I'm from, trusting strangers usually gets you killed."

"The last time we tolerated strangers, our land was invaded by an army."

"Last time I trusted strangers, I was shot in the head."

That brought a pause to the conversation. Akali took a moment to process what she heard.

_If he was truly struck in the head by one of those firearms, how is he still alive? Unless…_

She studied the man. Something about him made her uneasy. His tone and manner had an edge to them, indicating that he had experience in dangerous work. Everything about him seemed dangerous.

_This man truly is a mystery._

The silence reigned once more for several moments, time slowly trickling by as the Kinkou triumvirate closely studied the man before them, trying to anticipate any sudden movements.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Shen lowered his hands from the hilts of his swords. Following his lead, Akali put her kamas down by her sides and relaxed while Kennen put away his shuriken and stood upright.

The man considered their actions for a moment before lowering his own weapon and standing to his full height. He took the initiative to speak.

"So you're not here to kill me."

They all nodded.

"Then why were you all lurking in those trees?"

Shen stepped forward.

"We want to know what business you have here."

The man sighed heavily, or at least Akali thought it was a sigh. Something about the mask he wore distorted his voice, making it sound as if he was an automaton as opposed to a man.

"That's it?" he asked.

"Yes." Shen replied. The woods stood silent, as if all but the two talking men were holding their breath.

"I'm just passing through, friend."

"No ordinary traveller carries the weapons and armor you do."

"I'm not from around here. Traveling gets dangerous where I come from."

"Then where are you from?"

Here, the man paused. Akali tensed.

_If he came from Noxus..._

"I doubt you've heard of it."

"What do you mean by that?"

"It's somewhere... very different from here. It's pretty far away."

"Then how did you get here?"

"I don't know. Woke up in a clearing in these woods a couple days ago."

Akali could tell Shen was thinking carefully. He remained quiet for some time, contemplating what to do. The stranger spoke first.

"I got no reason to lie to you."

He placed his weapon on his back and held his hands out as a sign honesty.

Shen exhaled heavily.

"Very well. It is clear you mean no harm... for now. We will not pursue you any further."

He turned to the trees, gesturing to his fellows. They hopped up to the trees above in unison.

Quite a bit of time passed before the Courier finally settled down to rest.

* * *

Kennen had stayed silent for a bit too long. On the trip back to the temple, questions flew out of him as freely as falling water.

"So we're done?"

"Yes."

"We won't follow him?"

"No."

"We won't kill him?"

"No."

"Will we report to the Placidium?"

"Yes."

"Was he headed towards the southern port?"

"Yes."

"Do you think he'll cause trouble on the main island?"

"No."

"Do you think we'll see him again?"

"Yes."

It continued the entire journey back, giving Akali time to think.

_He just appeared in the clearing? What does that mean? Could it have been magic? A summoner, maybe? That would explain how he came from somewhere far away._

Her brows furrowed. The man's story was perplexing.

_He was headed towards the main island. Maybe we or someone else could gather more information._

* * *

**And that's chapter four.**

**Other real life stuff I want to write about that has nothing to do with the story:**

**-Oh, I wish Fallout 4 wasn't **_**years**_** away. It doesn't help that all of the rumors and speculation were met with relative silence from Bethesda. Until then, I guess Elder Scrolls Online and Skyrim can satisfy my adventuring itch.**

**-Supposedly, Gangplank's getting a rework and I'm excited about it. Gangplank is more or less my main on League, because I always have fun when I use him. It kind of sucks as is because even though I know all of the ins and outs of playing Gangplank, someone else can play as Nasus and take advantage of his recent buff by making my life in top lane very difficult. It's silly. That's why a rework might give Gangplank a more focused role and make him more competitive against more mainstream top-tier champions, two things he sorely needs.**


	5. The Port

Chapter 5 - The Port

After a morning of travel, the Courier had finally exited the forest. The view that faced him stole the breath from his lungs.

The elevated path led him to a viewpoint at the top of a tall hill, giving him a clear view of the cape on the island's southern end. From where he was, he could gaze upon a magnificent vista. To either side of him, he could see tall, snow-capped mountains that watched unscathed over stout foothills covered by vibrant forests. To his front, a path caressed on either side by fields of flowers led to a small port where several reinforced wooden ships were anchored. The land gave way to a vast cerulean ocean, basked in light that shimmered off from above. It made a startling contrast to the wasteland the Courier was accustomed to, with giant gorges carved into mountains to make roads and most water was somewhere between a foul brown or a sickly green.

_Did Earth used to look like this?_

It was all the Courier could think as he absent-mindedly paced towards the port.

* * *

The port of Haisen was a small, quiet town that primarily shipped goods and travelers between the main island of Ionia and the northwestern island that the monastery of the Kinkou was built on. Although the trade route was not the most lucrative, it was enough to support the humble port town. Elder Kinkou used to retire in peace at the port before they were nearly wiped out, leaving the port less populated than it used to be.

That being said, it was still many times more successful than your average Mojave settlement, a fact that reaffirmed the Courier's suspicion that he was in a paradise. The entire town felt alive to him, with people hurrying about their business. No chem addicts or drunks littered the clean streets, and all the children he could see were accompanied by parents. In the Mojave, orphans were more common than structured families.

The Courier was met with a countless number of stares as he made his way to the town's inn. Some of the mothers he passed by would usher their children away from him while others cautiously eyed his weapons.

_Might want to wear some less frightening clothes if I find a town like this. Can't get any work if I scare everyone away. Then again, can I even get any work here? This town's pretty peaceful, and I doubt those tree folk I met would have any trouble dealing with the bandits._

He sighed. His work was only good for times of misery. He was either killing people and taking what they have, or patching people up when there were too many bodies for the medical staff on hand. He had scientific and mechanical knowledge as well, but those were situational and typically went into more efficient methods of killing robots. Half of the time people asked him for help, he would end up hurting or threatening people to get the job done. The other half were chaotic "fix this mess for us" situations where he would have to heal the wounded, kill raiders, fix whatever happened to be broken at the time, and impart wisdom like some kind of prophet from a promised land of some sort. It was hard, but desperate people pay well.

_The Mojave was a hellhole, but at least it gave me a purpose. Not really sure what to do here._

The Courier resolved to find some work, somewhere. There were always problems to solve, no matter how things were going. And if there were problems, he'd be damned if he couldn't solve them.

* * *

Simply going to the innkeeper and asking for a room proved to be more of a challenge than the Courier had originally assumed.

First of all, he felt a sense of… alienation the moment he stepped in. Men and women seemed to bore holes in him with their stares. As a man who had become accustomed to blending in within the Wasteland, he had associated stares with imminent danger. Unfortunately, he didn't blend in at all here, and the constant staring was wrecking havoc on his instincts. It took a great deal of self-control not to cut and run. The foreign architecture didn't help, either. The entire building was made of wood that had intricate designs and strange characters carved into it. As if there wasn't enough to remind him that he was far from home.

Second, the inn was packed to the brim with people. Apparently, a merchant fleet had stopped by and its sailors were staying for the night in Haisen's only inn. The packed environment made the Courier nervous. He was trapped in a crowd, where any of these strangers could slip a knife through his ribs. He knew no one here. There was no one he could trust. Any of these people could be hunting him…

_No. Calm down. I ain't in the Wasteland anymore. No body's here wants me dead._

The Courier took a deep breath and bore through the crowd. He wasn't susceptible to panic attacks, but crowds made him more shaky than he would prefer. It distracted him from his objectives.

He reached the innkeeper after what felt like an eternity.

"You wouldn't happen to have free bed for tonight, would you?"

The innkeeper chuckled.

"Actually, I do. Last one available. You are very lucky, I usually end up turning most away when a crowd comes in like this."

The Courier was relieved that the man didn't turn him away for looking dangerous.

"Oh, thank God. How much for it?"

"That would be 10 gold pieces."

The Courier frowned in thought from behind his mask as he dug out his gold, making sure not to give him caps out of habit. Based on the amount he typically spent to rent a room in the Wasteland (10 gold at repurposed motels), 1 gold piece here would amount to about 10 caps in the Wasteland. This left him with what amounted to 200 caps, an amount he found underwhelming compared to the 4,000 or so in the footlocker he had with him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he had hoped that gold would be worth a fortune in this strange place, but now it was clear that wasn't the case. He would have to get his bearings quickly in order to acquire more funds. That involved getting a map first.

"Excuse me," the Courier asked, "but you wouldn't happen to know where I could get a map, would you?"

"Hmm? Oh, of course. There should be a cartographer's store by the port."

"Alright. Much obliged for the help, sir."

"Anytime, traveller."

The Courier walked out of the inn feeling considerably better than when he had walked in.

_At least the folks I've met so far were pleasant._

He headed towards the port, whistling a tune to himself.

* * *

After days of suspecting it, the Courier finally had proof.

He was in another world.

Something seemed to sink in his stomach. Granted, the Mojave Wasteland was a dangerous, radioactive, raider-infested pit filled with death and sand, but it was still the only thing he had ever called "home". As he compared the maps on his Pip-Boy to the one before him, his feeling of loss continued to worsen.

The world that the map labeled "Runeterra" was something entirely different from Earth. As opposed to several split landmasses, there was only one large landmass surrounded by groups of islands. The center landmass was split into several regions, all of which seemed to vary greatly in terrain.

In the far north of the main continent, a large region was labeled Freljord. Several drawings of snowy mountains dotted the region, and few tows were labeled.

West of Frejlord were the lands of Piltover and Zaun, two places that, judging by the designs of bubbling water and chemical waste drawn on the map, were both heavily involved in some kind of industry. The Courier grimaced. He had read about how industry (back when his home was called America) had sacrificed the environment for increased productivity in their factories. If only they knew what happens when there's nothing left.

Farther South, across the "Ironspike" mountain range, were the regions of Demacia and Noxious… no, wait, Noxus. The two appeared to be separated by marshlands and some place called the Institute of War, a name that caught the Courier's eye. It was some kind of city in the middle of the mainland, entirely separate from the other regions.

"_Institute of War"? What is that, some kind of war academy? Why the hell would a place need an "Institute of War" all by itself? Wouldn't something like that be part of a country?_

The Courier was bewildered by the lack of other institutes in the area. It was a separate, distinctly marked place in the middle of the map.

_Guess these folks really like war. Maybe there's work for me after all._

Dividing the continent was an enormous mountain range called The Great Barrier, which contained a prominent mountain creatively labeled Mount Gargantuan.

_Who the hell names a mountain Mount Gargantuan? Fella must've had a surplus of pride and a shortage of creativity. Then again, Big Mountain's not much better._

To the south, there weren't as many cities. There was the Shurima Desert and the Kumungu Jungle, which lay next to the Voodoo Lands and the Plague Jungles. All four had "Tread with caution" written on them as if their names hadn't already given that impression.

On opposite sides, the regions of Urtistan and Bandle City were written. The strange thing was that little was shown on either, other than the words "Yordle Land" was written by Bandle City.

_The hell's a yordle?_

Among the islands, there was Blue Flame Island, a place that only had a single settlement called Bilgewater. The Courier noted that a volcano was situated near it.

North of Bilgewater was Ionia, which consisted of a large landmass with three smaller islands surrounding it. Haisen was located on the edge of the north-western Ionian island, facing the mainland.

_So I'm on some island off the coast of some place called Ionia. Weird name, but I guess those are all over this map. I ought to get to the main island if I want work._

That left one place: The Shadow Isles. They were in the very north-western corner of the map, and their names were all that was written. A skull drawn next to the small islands was clearly a sign of danger.

_Oh, those islands look like trouble. Might want to head there and see what's going on._

The Courier folded the map with a sense of anticipation building in his body. This new world lay open to him like the Mojave had before, practically begging for him to wander and explore within. All he needed was money and a boat.

* * *

**And that's it for this chapter. Thanks for reading! Feel free to voice any concerns in the reviews.**


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